


The House in the Red Light District

by Kyogre



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Comedy, Community: snkkink, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyogre/pseuds/Kyogre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From snkkink. </p><p>Armin, Eren and Mikasa inherit a brothel. A very classy brothel, that's popular with the military. They have no idea what they're doing, but with Armin's cunning, Mikasa's ability to kick ass, and Eren's mysterious kink-discovering skills, they pull through okay. Mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which they inherit (?) a brothel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but only a little.
> 
> (Also, I hope I'm doing this posting thing right.)

\-------------

How, precisely, three eleven year olds came to own and operate one of the most prestigious brothels in the city is a mystery that continues to confound the red light district, the military brass and the general population for years to come. 

Asking Eren is pointless, since he’s just as confused everyone else. No one is willing to ask Mikasa, since by that point she’s already seen as some kind of very visually appealing boogeyman. Armin just smiles innocently, his expression making it seem like he doesn’t even know what a brothel is (which is a total lie). 

\-------------

They make it through the first year on luck and Eren’s amazing ability to stumble upon the one thing each customer just can’t resist, usually completely by accident. 

So, basically, they make it through on luck. 

Fortunately, after that first year, Armin’s little black book is well on its way to figuring in the nightmares -- and other kinds of dreams -- of much of the military brass. 

It comes in very handy down the line, when Armin needs to explain to said brass why executing his best friend would be an unacceptable course of action for all of them. 

\------------

Their first customer is Dot Pixis. 

He strolls in after all the “girls” of the house have abandoned ship. Armin panics. He doesn’t know if telling Pixis that they won’t be running the brothel as a brothel any longer will get them kicked out onto the streets again, and he’s terrified to risk it, when they finally have a roof over their heads and a dry place to sleep. 

Eren, meanwhile, begs Helga the cook, the only woman left in the house, to stall Pixis, somehow, any way possible. 

Helga, a large woman with double braided buns like curled horns on either side of her head and arms almost as thick Eren’s waist, takes pity on them and storms the room they had left Pixis in with a thunderous expression on her strong features and a massive rolling pin in hand. 

Pixis stares at her with an expression of complete shock. The door slams shut behind Helga. Neither emerges from the room until morning. Helga is still stern-faced but somehow almost glowing as she cooks breakfast for the children. Pixis stumbles out of the brothel with the look of a man who has discovered religion. Or maybe the devil. Also, with a pronounced limp. 

He leaves behind not only a full night’s payment of the brothel’s rather high standard price, but also a very impressive tip. 

Armin thinks that maybe they can have not only a place to sleep, but some food too, if they can figure this brothel thing out. 

\---------------

Most of the “girls” who join the restructured brothel are recruited by Eren. Well, Armin is the one who recruits them, explains the rules and pays their wages, but Eren is the one who brings them in. Armin thinks it’s better not to ask where Eren keeps finding these women. In short order, it’s almost a tradition to have Eren show up with a girl in tow, likely wearing a piece of his clothing, and ask for an extra serving of food for her. 

(And if there is a dead body or two found the next day -- an abusive husband, a drug dealer, a human trafficker, and on one memorable occasion a particularly corrupt noble and his bodyguard -- well, Armin doesn’t know anything about that. Eren always somehow has an alibi, if the Military Police were to come asking. Not that they ever get around to actually taking Eren’s statement when they visit. Armin’s black book slowly fills up.)

Mikasa is jealous the first time, but quickly adjusts. Even though she is one of the youngest in the brothel -- Eren at one point does drag in a girl even younger, who helps Helga in the kitchen -- she considers herself the “big sister” who looks out for the others. 

The entire red light district quickly learns how handy she is with a knife, especially where certain parts of the male anatomy are concerned. Specifically, detaching them. 

Everyone is later horrified to discover she’s also quite handy without a knife. 

\--------------

The first time one of the girls gets knocked up, it’s a three ring circus spectacular. Mikasa manages to put an end to everyone running around like headless chickens and to simultaneously make everything much, much worse by demanding that someone finally explain to her how babies are made. 

Needless to say, they keep the baby. The less said about the delivery -- naturally timed to be as inconvenient and embarrassing as possible -- the better. 

Armin makes a few annotations in his little black book. Some men apparently wish for the family and hearth deep in their hearts. 

\--------------

The only person they never figure out is Levi. The first time Erwin drags him in, he and Eren spend the entire night arguing about whether or not Eren is a stupid, suicidal idiot with a death wish, who wouldn’t last ten minutes of a Survey Corps expedition. Levi refuses to pay them a single copper, when he finally hauls Erwin out and back to their barracks. 

Despite the amount of swear words Levi directed at Eren, he still gushes about Humanity’s Strongest the next day, which isn’t really helpful as far as determining Levi’s preferences goes. They never do “service” him in any way. Armin tries to take it philosophically, but the empty space next to Levi’s name in his book continues to nag at him. 

At least they do better with Levi’s squad (who also drag him into the brothel despite his protests). Well, sort of. Only half of them pay, since Eren accidentally locks Petra and Auruo into a single room and forgets about them for the rest of the night. 

They do leave a generous tip though. 

\--------

Actually, with the number of weddings they get invited to, you’d think they were running a matchmaking service, not a brothel. 

At least the house is nice, the beds are soft, and the food is fresh, Armin thinks. Overall, he considers it a good career choice. 

\--------


	2. In which Levi is an unnatural freak, says Armin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to joke that what Levi loves is ~~cleaning products~~ ~~nothing at all~~ ~~killing Titans~~ ~~Eren~~ an eternal mystery, but instead we get this. Omake are not usually canon, but make of it what you will.  
>  \-------------

\-----------

“He must be some kind of unnatural freak,” Armin mutters to himself, glaring down at the empty line in his little black book. The short name at the start -- followed by nothing, nothing at all -- taunts him. 

How else would Levi be able to evade Eren’s mysterious kink-discovering powers? 

No one else had! It had become an accepted part of life at their legally-registered-as-a-boarding-house business. 

Eren spills water on one of the girls? Three customers swallow heavily and stare at her clinging white dress. Eren gets a new pair of glasses for the nearsighted girl who's been tripping over chairs and sidetables? Everyone starts trying to catch her gaze. Eren asks for tutoring down in the lobby? Cries of “Punish me, teacher!” echo through the building. 

Eren comes home in a (kinky, revealing) maid uniform, the now former maid trailing behind him, dressed in his clothes? Actually, no, Armin doesn’t want to remember that. That had been terrible, in various ways. 

Mikasa shrugs, apparently disinterested. She has felt a vague sense of benevolence toward Levi ever since he -- through some arcane means known only to really short captains or possibly Humanity’s Strongest -- convinced Eren to at least put off joining the military for a while. 

(Armin thinks guilt-tripping may have been involved, or maybe promises of Titan destruction, but he isn’t sure. No, seriously, what did Levi say, “Don’t do anything stupid, and I’ll kill an extra twenty Titans for you?”)

(Wait, that sounds like...)

“...What if it did work on Levi, and we just didn’t realize?” Armin wonders in stunned horror. 

“...What,” Mikasa says flatly. 

Armin backpedals sharply. “No! That’s definitely not it! I just said something stupid!” Something very, very stupid. “No, really, Mikasa, I don’t think that’s what it is,” Armin assures her. He sighs in relief when she finally sets the spoon she’d grasped back down. 

He really doesn’t think it’s like that. (Well, obviously, Eren doesn’t do that kind of work anyway.) If anything, Levi regards all three of them the same way you might look at a kid who helps an old woman across the road. Sort of, “Who does that, really? Stupid, naive brats. ... Not bad.”

Armin continues to puzzle over that for a while longer, but he never figures it out. 

In any case, he is soon distracted by a commotion down in the lobby. 

It turns out Eren found a box of kittens and brought them home. Armin has never before seen grown, grizzled men melt so quickly and so thoroughly.

\-------

It’s the first time Levi visits a brothel after joining the military, and it’s entirely Erwin’s fault. 

“You need to relax a little, unwind!” Erwin laughs. 

The last place Levi wants to let down his guard is in a brothel. Places like that create a false sense of privacy and security, lulling their customers, but in truth those are the most dangerous places of all. 

The people there, living at the very edge of society, are the most dangerous. 

Levi has seen many, many men ruined by the red light district. Noblemen, wealthy merchants, military leaders, it doesn’t matter. So he’s honestly a little mystified about Erwin’s decision to go to a brothel at all. 

Could this be the one blind spot for Erwin, who is always so controlled and calculating? 

“Pixis recommended it,” Erwin assures him, but that just makes Levi more wary. 

When Levi goes along, despite his grumbling, it’s mostly because he wants to keep an eye on Erwin. He, at least, knows what to watch out for. 

\-------------------

The first person to greet them at the brothel is a little girl with exotic features. They’re off to a great start. 

The second person they see is also a kid. 

So is the third. 

Levi really hopes it’s not some kind of trend. Dealing with Erwin is going to become very difficult if this is some indication of his interests. 

\---------------

Fortunately, it turns out Erwin’s interests lie elsewhere. He stares at the girl who comes to pull him away with a stupidly smitten look, which honestly kind of freaks Levi out. (Also, Levi isn’t sure what’s so amazing about her. The outfit is scandalous, but otherwise nothing notable.)

One of the kids nods to himself (at least Levi thinks that’s a boy) in satisfaction and pockets a small black book. 

Levi has no idea why his instincts, well-honed after a lifetime of fending for himself, suddenly start blaring. All he knows is that he must not show a hint of weakness to this brat. 

“Fuck off,” Levi tells him preemptively. “I’m not interested. I’m just here to drag Erwin back after he’s done.” 

Two of the brats exchange a look, and the girly-looking one with the mysterious book retreats. 

But that still leaves Levi with one other brat. They stare at each other for a moment. 

“Are you in the Survey Corps too?” the kid asks. The blatant admiration in his eyes makes Levi feel a little nauseous. 

\----------------

It only goes downhill from there. 

“Do you have a death wish? I’m telling you, the Survey Corps isn’t all sunshine and roses like you think,” Levi is insisting. He’s not sure why he’s bothering arguing with the brat -- Eren Yeager, apparently -- but now he’s in too deep to stop. No one ever accused him of being too mature. “You wouldn’t last ten minutes on an expedition. You won’t make it back.” 

“So what if I might not come back?! That’s the kind of world this is! You might not come back either!” Eren yells in return. “That’s no reason to give up without a fight!”

Levi twitches a little. “I’ll come back, because I’m strong,” he tells the brat. “I’m not a pathetic little shit like you. In fact, you’re more likely to get shanked in the meantime, running your mouth like that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Eren declares. He crosses his arms and stares expectantly.

“I guess we will,” Levi agrees, his eyes narrowing as he stares back. 

For a moment, both of them are silent. Then, Eren adds, “You better prove it. I’ll be waiting.” 

“If that’s your way of making sure I come here again, it’s a shitty one,” Levi says. “I’m not paying you brats a copper, today or then.” 

“Like we want your stupid money anyway!” 

Irritated beyond belief, Levi pauses only long enough to grab Erwin and storms out. 

\------------

He comes again, after the expedition. Even with Erwin’s strategies and formations, they still lost more than a fourth of their men. 

But Levi is still here, and he goes to prove it, because apparently he has less maturity than an eleven year old brat, deep down. The kids are still there -- a minor miracle, Levi thinks, snorting -- and despite their argument last time, Eren greets Levi enthusiastically. 

He doesn’t pay them this time either. 

\----------

Eren is a big fan of the Survey Corps, and he convinces Armin -- the head of the brothel, unbelievably -- to give them a discount. Erwin, the cheapskate, goes there often. 

Levi pointedly never makes use of it, but he still follows Erwin whenever the commander visits. He’s doing it to make sure Erwin doesn’t get mugged or something. No other reason. 

\----------

Though Levi hates to admit it, the red light district is familiar to him. The brothel is too, but it’s also strange. It feels... well, sometimes, it doesn’t feel all that much like a brothel. A love hotel, maybe, but there are no drugs changing hands in the corners, no thugs swaggering in and out, no barely muffled screams from the bedrooms that everyone ignores. 

(Well, okay, there might be some screams, and most people try to ignore them, but it’s with a blush or rolled eyes, not a stony, miserable sense of denial.)

The time he sees one of Pixis’s subordinates show up to take a girl to meet his parents... that just cinches it. 

And the less said about Pixis’s own visits, the better. 

There are customers who think they have the right to do whatever they want, of course. Mikasa deals with them quickly and efficiently. There is even one memorable occasion -- memorable for its sheer stupidity -- when a new gang tries to stake the house as their territory. 

Levi tenses, ready to step in, but his assistance proves unnecessary. 

Not only do they get their faces summarily pounded in, by Mikasa, with Eren’s enthusiastic and surprisingly cold-blooded help, and even by the cook’s heavy skillet, but to add insult to injury, Armin fetches the Military Police, who do actual work for once in their entire careers and arrest every member of the gang, bar none. 

It takes Levi falling asleep on a couch, after another all-night argument with Eren, for him to understand what he’s feeling about that house -- safety. It’s stupid, but that place feels safe. 

\----------

He’s fresh from an expedition, one where even Erwin got hurt. The commander asked Levi to pass on an apology to his usual companion, for not being in any shape to visit, and it wasn’t until Levi has dropped on one of the couches in the lobby and had a plate of food forced on him that he realizes Erwin doesn’t go to the house after expeditions anyway. 

Manipulative prick. 

Still, Levi is already there, and the food is cooling, so he shrugs and digs in. Across from him, Eren fidgets and watches him with almost painfully clear concern. 

“Still want to join the Survey Corps?” Levi asks, bitterness creeping into his usually bland tone. 

“Yes,” Eren replies immediately. 

Levi can’t even find the energy to berate him. Since he doesn’t need to wait for Erwin, he’ll go back soon. There are so many things he needs to handle, so many responsibilities, so many demands placed on him...

He’ll go back soon. But for now, he lets himself sink deeper into the couch and close his eyes for a moment. 

When he opens them next, there’s a blanket over him, and all of his things are still there.

Levi can’t quite believe it. He checks five times, just to be sure, but everything, down to the last coin, is accounted for. That, more than anything, is just too strange. He let his guard down and they didn’t even pickpocket him? 

Who does that, really? ...It’s not bad. 

\----------


	3. In which Hange sees something she likes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I just keep writing this stuff. I’m sorry, guys, for various things. Like my entire existence. I’ll stop now. ...Probably.

\--------------

The 56th expedition beyond the walls begins without a hitch. Once they reach their destination -- an abandoned town where they plan to capture some new specimens for Hange -- Levi sets about fulfilling his Titan kill quota. 

Everyone picks out a spot and takes a break as they watch. It’s been going on for three years and is something of a tradition -- on every expedition, no matter what its purpose, Levi will take the time to kill twenty Titans, unrelated to accomplishing their mission. 

Erwin had not been entirely impressed when it started, but by this point he just sighs and goes along with it, including the extra gas and blades necessary in their supplies. 

Theories as to why Levi does this abound. The most common ones involve Levi making some kind of sacrifices to some blood god that grants him power in battle. 

Hange thinks it’s Levi’s way of courting his sweetheart, but no one believes her. Apparently, no one except her thinks it’s romantic, and Levi ignored her for a week after the last time she suggested it. (Actually, that would probably be considered a point in her favor...)

As always, Levi’s squad makes themselves useful spotting for him and bringing him blades and gas. Hange pitches in to help, since half the squad has wandered off to make out in some corner, while the other half rolls their eyes and wonders whether it’ll be okay to have a white wedding. 

Levi is on number eighteen and has cleared out almost the entire abandoned town, when they notice something strange. Hange had been eyeing a four-meter and a seven-meter, approaching from the west, with intent to capture them, when both the Titans suddenly change course. 

“Do you see that?” Eldo, Levi’s second in command, asks as he lands next to Hange. “Why would they just ignore us? Are they Aberrants?” 

Hange takes a moment to answer, peering into the distance. “Get the commander,” she says, her serious tone making him snap to attention. “Something isn’t right.” 

\--------

Something definitely isn’t right, and that is putting it mildly. 

They hadn’t been the only ones to notice Titans suddenly changing course -- the sentries and scouts had seen it too. Erwin barely pauses before ordering them to pack up and get moving. They are going after the Titans, to find out what prompted this change in behavior. 

It looks like Hange won’t be getting her new specimens, but she’s too excited by this new prospect to care. Everyone else is uneasy -- or irritated, in Levi’s case. 

No one mentions that the Titans are headed in the direction of Trost, even as that thought hangs over all their heads. 

\--------

The gate is gone. Titans are stumbling in through the opening. The sight is like a punch in the gut for the Survey Corps. It’s one thing to face Titans outside, beyond the Walls. It’s another to see them in the place that should be safe. 

Hange knows they are all wondering what they’re going to do. They are not defenders. 

“We’re going over the Wall,” Erwin decides. “Head off from the gate and circle around. We’ll leave the horses. There should be someone on top to explain the situation.” 

Surprisingly, Levi shoots him a look that is just short of mutinous. “Is there time for that? There’s no telling how long the gate’s been down or how far along the evacuation is,” Levi says. 

(The look Erwin shoots him is infuriating to Levi. It’s like Erwin somehow knows what Levi is thinking -- the red light district would be the last to evacuate, unless Pixis managed to pull some strings. But, Levi remembers suddenly, even Pixis is out of town that day. Damn it, could this have been timed any worse for them?)

“They must have set up pits and other obstacles on the other side of the gate,” Erwin replies. “We wouldn’t be able to ride through anyway.”

Levi doesn’t protest further, though he looks coldly furious. Hange can understand. Still, under it all, she mostly just feels cold. They’ve lost Trost, at the very least. There’s no telling if they’ve already lost all of Rose as well. 

\--------------

The top of the Wall is deserted. The cannons over the gate are gone, and the other structures are all smashed up. 

Hange’s eyes immediately focus on the inner gate -- it’s still there, and unless she’s very much mistaken, still up. The evacuation must be in progress. 

She can also just make out soldiers in 3D Maneuver Gear flitting in between it and them. Erwin is already firing off a smoke signal. Levi barely waits before turning to the commander for further orders. It’s clear what he wants. 

Erwin’s dilemma is clear -- wait for someone to arrive to brief them? Head into the city, splitting up, possibly losing all cohesion in the formation and using up their gas? Move along the Wall to the inner gate, potentially losing precious time and civilian lives? 

“Levi, take your squad and head straight for the inner gate,” Erwin finally decides. “Let them know we’re here and find out the situation. If this is like five years ago, be ready. Everyone else will head in along the Wall...” 

If they can get a cart running along the rails, it might not even take that long for them to catch up. 

However, Hange protests. She might not be one of Levi’s Titan killing specialists, but she’s good. And this is rare chance. Erwin is right. What if the Armored Titan shows up again? She wants to see it up close. 

Erwin doesn’t even bother to argue, just jerks his head to tell her to get going. He’s got bigger problems at this point. 

\------------------

Over the last few years, they’ve gotten used to the sight of abandoned towns. But the bodies and the fresh blood in the streets is a chilling reminder that this was a living city just a day ago. They’re not sure which is worse -- the bodies of civilians, or those of their fellow soldiers. Their uniforms bear not only the roses of the Garrison, but also the twin swords of the Training Corps. 

Everyone available had been sent out to buy time for the evacuation, but as the Survey Corps soldiers close in on the inner gate, they can see it hadn’t been enough. People are still crowded around the gate, even as Titans close in. 

Levi doesn’t need to say anything, his team and Hange already drawing their blades. 

Then... _it_ steps out onto the street before them. 

Hange’s thoughts turn into a chaotic jumble -- it’s like no Titan she has ever seen before, the armor covering almost all of its body looks thick, perhaps too much so for their blades, _they are too late, too far_. 

Even Levi won’t make it, even if he charges regardless of gas consumption. They are simply too far away, and the Armored Titan is already dropping into a runner’s stance. It takes off for the inner gate in a burst of dust and steam, outpacing them easily. 

They have a front row seat to the fall of Wall Rose. 

\------------

There is a flash of lightning, from the ground, toward the sky, and a clap of thunder, between the Armored Titan and the gate. It’s going too fast to stop or turn or even properly realize what is happening. 

Hange doesn’t understand what is happening either. 

But what it looks like is a giant fist bursting from the sudden cloud of smoke to plow into the Armored Titan’s jaw. A body follows the fist -- which is destroyed by the force of the hit -- crashing into the Armored Titan and sending it tumbling off course. 

It’s a really... nice body. 

Oh. _Oh._

That observation loom inappropriately large in Hange’s mind as she watches two Titans wrestle in the middle of the street. Whether because it’s two such Aberrant Titans, because a Titan is fighting another Titan, or because at least one of those Titans has a really amazing physique, she can’t look away. 

The only thing that draws her out of her spinning thoughts is when Levi tries to move in -- to separate the two Titans or maybe kill one or both -- and almost gets pegged in the head with a knife by a girl in a red scarf. 

That seems to mean something in particular to him, judging by the face Levi makes, but before he can do anything else, the Armored Titan notices them... and beats a hasty retreat. 

Fascinating. 

Hange laughs creepily under her breath.

\---------------

Well, at least the evacuation finished smoothly after that.


	4. In which sexualities are questioned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so we’re clear, the new top ten lineup is: Reiner (1), Bertl (2), Annie (3), Jean (4), Marco (5), Connie (6), Sasha (7), Ymir (8), Christa (9), and Thomas Wagner (10).

It’s graduation night, and Jean feels triumphant. He’s done it. He made it through three years of hell to end up in the top ten. He’s in the top five, number four! Military Police, and cushy life in the interior, here he comes! 

But that’s not for a few days. Now, Jean wants to celebrate. When he voices that thought, the others look contemplative. 

“That’s a good idea. We should relax a bit,” Reiner -- the unofficial leader of their group -- agrees. As always near him, Bertolt fidgets and starts to sweat.

“Well, we can finally go into the city,” Connie muses. 

Thomas nods. “Yeah, I already dropped by to see my family. What about you, Jean?” 

“I’ll see ‘em later,” Jean waves away his question. He’ll go to brag, of course, but only after he’s officially accepted into the Military Police. It’ll be more impressive that way. 

“Trost is pretty big,” Connie continues. “There must be lots to do. I mean, in a city, there’s all kinds of... you know, nightlife, right?” 

Ymir, shamelessly eavesdropping, laughs at his faint flush. “You mean the red light district? What’s the matter, you lookin’ to lose your virginity before some big bad Military Police officer takes it instead?” 

There are so many things wrong with that question that Jean doesn’t even know where to start. Marco, who had been trying to ignore them, sputters indignantly. Connie can’t do anything but turn a vivid red. His shaved head looks like an overripe tomato. 

Actually, Jean is blushing too. He can’t help it. There’s nothing weird about being focused on getting into the Military Police, and he’d told himself that it would be easier to score once he was in. Girls always go for the uniform, right? Civilian girls, not these crazy amazons he’s surrounded by. 

“Tch. Who’s got money to blow on that sort of thing anyway?” he mutters. 

“None of them would hold a candle to my Christa anyway!” Ymir boasts. Wrapping an arm around their class idol, Ymir pulls her closer and begins to cuddle shamelessly. Christa blushes a little and squirms, but doesn’t pull away. Ymir smirks at them all, self-satisfied and challenging. 

Damn showoff. Just because they’re both girls and friends...

But once things quiet down, Connie sidles up next to Jean. “So... do you know any places?” he asks in a secretive whisper. “Thomas and I are gonna and check it out. Wanna join?”

Jean wants to tell him to have more dignity, or pride, or something. He’s basically made it into the Military Police! But actually, the Military Police are the ones to make use of those kinds of “services” most often. 

What the hell. 

“What the hell, why not?” Jean mutters. 

They sneak off after most of the other trainees have returned to their barracks -- or snuck off themselves. Or, at least, they try to. 

“Where’re you headed to?” Reiner asked nonchalantly, not looking up from his Gear, which he has spread out, disassembled, across his bed and half of Bertolt’s. 

“We’re just... uh..." Thomas stammers. Damn nosy head of class. 

“We’re going into town!” Connie blurts out guiltily. 

“It’s after curfew,” Reiner points out. “You still going on about that red light district stuff?” 

“That’s right,” Jean declares, going for blunt honesty as always. “You wanna come?” 

“No, thanks. I’m fine,” Reiner replies easily. “I’m not really into that sort of thing. Hey, Bertl, pass me the fifth left side screw, will you?” 

Still holding his book in one hand, eyes fixed on the words, Bertolt absently reaches out and grasps one of the small screws and passes it to Reiner. Their hands cup around each other -- to make sure the screw doesn’t get dropped. 

“Don’t bother hurrying back,” Reiner tells them. “Even Shadis isn’t going to be doing his rounds tonight.” 

They leave the two of them alone, both engrossed in their tasks. 

\---------------

“I knew it!” Sasha exclaims, peering out the window into the darkness. “The boys are sneaking out!” 

“Really? Let me see!” Mina crowds up next to her, almost pressing her face against the glass. 

Turning over to her other side, Annie valiantly tries to ignore them. 

“It’s just Jean, Thomas and Connie,” Mina notes, sounding almost disappointed. 

“Well, of course Marco would not be willing to join,” Sasha points out. “I think he volunteered to help with clearing away the last of the equipment. They probably waited until he was gone to try.” 

“I wonder where they’re going,” Mina mutters, her eyes narrowing. 

“They must be headed into town,” Sasha reasons. There’s not much else to do, and the boys aren’t carrying anything with them. She adds, “If they were sneaking into the storehouse, they’d invite me, right?” 

“They must be trying to hide it from us,” Mina decides, not entirely logically, but with a certain self-assuredness that always scares the people around her. Suddenly, she giggled, rather creepily. “I wonder if they’re... hehehe... All three? And while Reiner and Bertolt are all alone in their barracks...” 

She trails off into more disturbing laughter, while Annie gropes for her pillow, pulling it over her head. She doesn’t want to hear this. Not at all. 

“Do you think they’re going to get something really good to eat and don’t want to share it?” Sasha muses wistfully, apparently ignoring Mina’s own fantasies. 

“We should follow them,” Mina decides. “They can’t just leave us out like that! ...And I want to see, if they’re... hehehe...” 

Annie tries very hard not to wonder what kind of twisted reasoning Mina is using. She doesn’t want to know. 

“Yes!” Sasha exclaims, jumping to her feet in excitement. “Let’s go!” 

Finally, there’ll be peace and quiet once they’re gone...

Or so Annie foolishly assumes. It is not to be.

Instead, Mina makes her way to Annie’s bed and grabs her arm. “Come on, Annie, let’s go!” she urges the other girl. 

“Go by yourself,” Annie mutters, trying to roll away. But Mina has been sharing a bunk with her for three years, and if Annie hasn’t managed to drive her away yet, it’s probably not going to happen now. 

“We can’t just leave you by yourself!” Mina insists. “What are you going to do here? Hannah’s run off to see Franz, and Ymir and Christa ran off together... hehehe..."

“Sleep,” Annie says, but she can already tell she’s being ignored. 

“Let’s hurry!” Sasha urges them. “Or they will eat it all without us!” 

Eat what?

“Come on, Annie,” Mina adds quietly. Her voice drops, sadness creeping into her tone. “It’s our last chance. After this, you’ll be going to the Military Police..."

And Mina wouldn’t be able to follow, since she had not made the top ten. 

Annie sits up abruptly. 

It’s the red light district, right? Maybe there’ll be someone to beat up. 

\--------------

In the end, they end up following a guy from the Survey Corps. If you’re going to a place on what might be your last night alive, it’s gotta be something special, right? 

At least that is Connie’s reasoning. Thomas agrees, and Jean can only shrug. You never know with those Survey Corps lunatics. They don’t think like normal people -- otherwise they wouldn’t have be in the Survey Corps. 

The house he goes into is nondescript -- an old manor that’s seen better days, but isn’t quite decrepit. It looks almost distinguished in its faded glory. 

They hesitate across the street from the house, until Connie puffs himself up and strolls up to the doors with a completely fake casualness. Thomas and Jean scurry after him, glancing around surreptitiously. 

A bell rings above the door, making them jump, but it’s too late to back out, and all they can do is stumble in as Jean ends up tripping over the other two when they stop in the doorway. 

The Survey Corps soldier they had followed is on the other end of the lobby, talking to a boy their age. “...can’t come before this expedition,” he is saying. The boy huffs, but nods. 

“Thanks for letting us know,” he tells the soldier. “Well, I guess he might drop by after you return.” 

Both of them look up as one of the inner doors opens, and a girl steps out. 

No. A vision of beauty steps out. 

Silky raven-black hair, pale skin, a strange, ethereal quality to her features that Jean just can’t place -- she’s like no girl he’s ever seen. Not a pure goddess like Christa, but something else. Jean isn’t quite aware that he’s staring with a horribly unflattering look of shock, like a landed fish. 

As she approaches the Survey Corps soldier, Jean feels a surge of something very, very ugly. 

“Everything is set up,” she says. “Go ahead.”

The soldier flashes her a smile and, before Jean can do something amazingly stupid in what he realizes is jealousy, walks away. The girl doesn’t follow. 

Instead, both she and the boy turn to look at them. Her eyes are dark and calm, like a moonless night. 

She turns away just as quickly, only glancing at the boy. “Eren,” she says, her voice like the whisper of the wind, “welcome them. I’ll go get Armin.” 

The lucky bastard -- Eren -- nods and turns back to them with a smile, but Jean can only watching longingly as the girl walks away, her hair dark and rich against her crimson scarf. 

Next to Jean, Thomas draws a slow, awed breath. 

“Welcome!” Eren says, startling Jean out of his thoughts. “Is this your first time here? Do you have any preferences?” 

“Her,” Jean blurts out. 

Eren’s face snaps into a scowl so quickly Jean actually jumps. 

“Mikasa doesn’t work here,” he growls. 

So her name is Mikasa. 

“Um, I guess you don’t either?” Thomas ventures, shivering a little under the tense atmosphere. If he wasn’t so preoccupied, Jean might have choked on his spit. Why would anyone ever think this scruffy, scrawny bastard worked in a place like this, like that?

As it is, Connie just eyes Thomas with a blank expression. 

Unlike Jean, who has assumed a stupidly smitten, longing look, Thomas is still blushing. 

“Oh..." a breathy, excited voice draws out, right over Connie and Thomas’s shoulders. 

With a stereo screech, they both jump. 

It’s Mina. 

“I’m hungry.” And Sasha. 

And Annie.

How did they get in without making the bell over the door ring? Women are mysterious. 

Hopefully, they’ll be less mysterious come morning. After all, he came to this place with one goal -- to get laid.

\-----------------

He doesn’t get laid, because they emphatically can’t afford it. 

“If you join the Survey Corps, you’ll get a discount,” Eren tells them. 

“Fat lot of good that’d do us when we get eaten,” Jean grumbles. 

It escalates quickly. Thomas tries to mediate, but he’s alone and ignored. Everyone else just watches with varying degrees of interest, amusement and exasperation -- Sasha just focuses on eating, Annie zones out, Mina with a creepy amount of focus. 

“Better than being one of the corrupt MP pigs!” 

“If you think they’re so great, why don’t you join?!”

“I will!” Eren yells back. He hesitates for a moment. “But I’m responsible for everyone here,” he admits. “If I go, Mikasa will go,” Jean twitches, “and Armin might go too, and then what will everyone at the house do? That’s why we decided to wait a few years, settle everything here and then join the military.” 

He says that they decided this, but it’s pretty clear the decision had been basically forced down his throat by people with far more logic and common sense. 

Eren broods for a moment. “I guess by the time we graduate, you’ll be our superiors,” he muses and ducks his head. “So, uh, please look after us. We’ll be in your care.” 

Thomas blushes. No one notices the faintest trace of pink pass over Annie’s cheeks at the same time. It’s for the best. Their minds probably wouldn’t have withstood such a sight. 

\-----------

They all turn as the bell above the door rings. 

“Welcome!” Eren says cheerfully. 

Everyone else pales. 

It’s Marco. He smiles. 

Connie tries to hide between the couch cushions. Sasha begins cramming an entire loaf of bread into her mouth, her eyes wide and glassy. Mina laughs awkwardly -- or at least that’s probably supposed to be a laugh. Thomas grabs onto Eren and whimpers something like “hold me.” Annie just sort of looks caught between a fighting stance and a nonchalant slouch. 

Jean feels... something. He’s not sure what. A kind of stirring. A simultaneous dropping and rising. Suddenly, he’s very, horribly confused. 

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you,” Marco says, still smiling. His voice is light and cheerful. So why does everyone suddenly feel like they’re about to die?

He’s really going to die a virgin, Connie realizes in horror. 

To Jean, the thought of death almost seems like a sweet relief. 

“Come again soon,” Eren calls out after them. 

\-----------

Come next morning, of the top ten, only Reiner, Bertolt, Ymir and Christa are ready to report to their assignments. Marco is, for the first time in his entire military career, late. Nonetheless, he looks very self satisfied. 

\-----------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, in my mind, Mina is a crazy fujoshi who mentally pairs up all her classmates. I guess she’s like Sazanka Bianca from Aquarion Evol? Must be the hairstyle.


	5. In which Armin is an evil mastermind

This part was inspired by this prompt:  
http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=3798816#cmt3798816  
 _So, I've seen a few fics here where Armin keeps a little black book where he writes down everyone's kinks and weaknesses._

_So let's do something on that. What exactly is in that little black book, when does Armin take it out to use it. (It's not really necessary to put my best friend on trial right?) And what does everyone else think of it._

_Bonus: Someone nicks Armin's little black book, and tries to use the information to blackmail someone. Only, it turns out Armin has decoys, and they get into deep shit when they find out the information isn't accurate._  
\---------------

 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Armin says with his best, blandest smile. 

Erwin is honestly impressed. Most fifteen year old boys would show some hesitation when left in a stately room in the main courthouse, alone with the leaders of the three military branches -- and their leader, too. Of course, most fifteen year old boys don’t have best friends that can turn into fifteen meter class Titans. 

Armin doesn’t even waver as Generalissimo Darius Zackly peers at him over his spectacles. 

“You are here to give testimony in Eren Yeager’s place, since he is unable to do so himself,” Zackly says. Eren is still passed out down in the courthouse dungeon, and Mikasa refuses to be separated from him. The Military Police -- all well aware of her abilities where certain parts of the anatomy are concerned -- don’t dare to force the issue. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ve already seen everything I have to say in the reports,” Armin says. “Instead, let’s not waste time and move on to the actual issue -- what is going to happen to Eren.” 

Nile looks like he’s about to launch into a loud and impassioned speech, so Erwin makes a small movement that Nile is bound to notice out of the corner of his eye. It distracts and throws him off for a moment, which is all Armin needs. 

“This is a very volatile situation,” he says. “I’m sure there have already been many unreasonable demands made, like executing him or using him as an experiment. But I think it would be in everyone’s interests to settle this matter quietly, without any... scandal.”

Armin pulls out a little black book. Every man in the room recognizes it -- it appeared in the prelude to some of the most pleasurable experiences in their lives. 

And they suddenly realize that, at the time, Armin had been busy taking notes. Scandalous notes. 

They gulp. 

Yes, it would be better to avoid a scandal, wouldn’t it? 

\------------

Erwin is honestly impressed. He knows that the kids started out as, well, kids. That Armin could be sneaky and insightful enough to accumulate such a record from the get-go makes Erwin wish he could get that talent in his corner. 

And that book. He could definitely use that book in his corner. 

\------------

Pixis is amused. He’s too old and too shameless to worry about scandals. Having a reputation as a complete eccentric also helps. He admitted to wanting to score with a hot Titan. How much more depraved can you get? 

He pretends to go along with Armin’s cute intimidation tactics because he honestly likes the kids, thinks they have their uses, and also because Helga would be quite upset if something happened to them. 

\------------

Nile hates them and their little black book. 

One night. One night of indiscretion!

\------------

Zackly coughs into his fist and smooths his beard. 

\------------

The thing is, Armin doesn’t just keep notes about their customers’ preferences. He notes down when they visited, for how long, with whom, anything they said, anything they did. 

And if someone perhaps saw something on a piece of paper that just happened to fall out of their pockets while they weren’t using their pants... Well, Armin might take note of that too. 

He’s also a good listener. The girls are always telling him things. All kinds of things. He’s like the house councilor. Or a priest. 

Does that make his little black book a sacred scripture? 

\-------------

Erwin isn’t the only one who recognizes the potential of Armin’s blackmail bible. 

It’s the winter of their second year running the house. It has been colder and longer than anyone had predicted, and another food shortage is threatening the city. In fact, supplies in general are running short, but it’s the food situation that bothers Armin the most. 

Helga has been doing everything she can to stretch their stocks out, but not only is it hard to buy food in the first place, but for the first time since the first year, the house is in the red. Their clients are feeling the pinch too, and those that would be above it have all relocated to the interior, where comforts are more plentiful. 

Armin remembers what going hungry feels like. Even if the girls assure him they’re grateful to have even the small, meager portions they receive, Armin feels the weight of his failure to provide for everyone heavily against his shoulders. 

He’s not alone in feeling that. 

“We weren’t able to buy anything again this week,” Armin mutters, late one night. “There wasn’t anything at the market at all..."

“What? But I heard the food shipments arrived!” Eren protests. Next to him, Mikasa looks coldly angry. 

Armin sighs. “It was probably redirected before it even reached the storehouse. We just can’t afford to make bribes like that.” He would be perfectly willing to do so, if they had the means. 

Eren would not, but then there’s a reason Eren isn’t in change of the business side of things. “Those pigs,” he hisses, fists clenching. “Was it the nobles? Or the military brass?” 

Armin shrugs, but privately thinks it’s probably the nobles. The military in Trost is pretty well controlled, under Pixis’s firm hand. When Pixis had dropped by last, he had made it clear that his priorities were firmly on keeping his men, and especially the recruits stationed nearby, fed, with the support of the Training Corps’s head instructor. 

“Stuffing themselves while everyone else starves..." Eren continues to mutter. He’s working himself up into a fine rage, which isn’t very productive. 

“It’s okay, we’ll gouge them when they visit next,” Armin says comfortingly. 

However, that’s very little comfort when they’re going to be spending another cold night with growling bellies. They’re already sharing a bed for warmth, but Armin contemplates having everyone move into a single room. Maybe that way, they’ll be able to cut a little more on heating. 

\------------

Three days later, Eren and Mikasa turn up with as much food as they’re able to carry -- and in Mikasa’s case, that’s quite a bit. They shiftily refuse to explain where they got it, and Armin has a very, very bad feeling. 

That feeling is entirely justified because it turns out they stole it. 

The one who storms into the house, demanding the return of the stolen property, isn’t actually the nobleman who paid the bribes and bought the food, but rather one of his higher ranking retainers. 

He’s also a former customer. 

It’s clear that the man realizes it as well. He smirks, some of his anger turning to disdain and anticipation. 

“Well now... Perhaps we can work something out. I understand, things must have been so hard for you,” he says with false, mocking sympathy. “If you return everything you stole and... compensate me for my time, I’ll overlook this, just once. I’m sure my master doesn’t need to be bothered with such a minor incident.” 

There is only one kind of “compensation” he can mean. 

Armin smiles nervously -- not entirely faked -- praying that Eren doesn’t blow his lid and kill the man right there and then. It would be rather difficult to hide. 

To buy time, he pretends to play along, reaching for his little book and flipping through the pages. “Of course, sir,” he murmurs. “If I remember correctly, your preference was..."

Armin remembers his preference just fine as it is. He hadn’t been one of their better customers, too rough and abrasive, with “tastes” that were just short of unacceptable. He hadn’t come again, claiming they were not up to his standards. 

There was something else too. Ah, what had she said about him...?

Oh, that’s right. He’d complained about how even his boss’s wife had put out better. 

\-------------

Armin could’ve, of course, just called it even and sent the man away. They would’ve been able to keep the food Eren and Mikasa had... appropriated, and most likely, that would have been the end of that. 

But Armin might have gotten a little greedy. A little overconfident. A little high on power. 

So he proceeds to blackmail the man into helping the “appropriate” even more food, a bit with every new shipment. Armin’s not sorry. It gets them through the winter. 

It also earns them their first serious enemy. 

The would-be blackmailer who got blackmailed instead vividly remembers what he thinks of as Armin’s little blackmail book. He knows that many powerful men visit the house. He thinks Armin records everything in that book. 

He decides he can still turn the tables on them. They’re just a trio of brats. He’ll take their book and use it for himself. 

It’s not as easy as it sounds. The first time, their opponent tries to take it himself, while he’s there. Eren decks him with one of Armin’s other books, the thick dictionary-like ones, and then proceeds to kick him while he’s down. 

Explaining the next day why half his body is blue and black is quite difficult. 

Next, the man tries hiring someone to take the thing on one of Armin’s rare excursions outside. Unfortunately, Mikasa is with him, and she makes short work of the thugs. 

The first thief he hires to steal it ends up exposed when he stumbles across a couple making out on the rooftop. (How? Why? Perhaps it’s better not to ask.) The second thief tries to go through the kitchen and meets Helga. It doesn’t end well for him. 

The third thief runs into Eren. He doesn’t leave for the rest of the night and wears a stupidly blissful look when he tells his (ex-)employer that he can’t complete the contract. Third time lucky, for him anyway. 

Next, the would-be blackmailer tries a different approach. He hires a mole. 

The maid, who had been dismissed by their master for certain improper activities, comes crying to the house, sob story all prepared. They take her in easily, the foolish brats. 

It takes her longer than the man expected, but finally she brings him a little black book, straight from Armin himself. The would-be blackmailer cackles as he opens it eagerly. 

Inside is a meandering description of the world outside, or what Armin imagines it to be like. Most of it is clearly drivel, filled with stories of magic horses and talking flowers and troll women who make pies out of men. 

Furious, he throws it against the wall and calls the girl back. 

She weathers his anger with annoyance. It’s not as if he told her which black book to get. Finally, he agrees to pay her extra, and she heads back to the house, but not before surreptitiously picking up the little book he'd discarded. 

Armin had been acting quite distraught just before she left, and she feels a bit bad for taking something that must be precious to him. There’s nothing wrong with a kid writing down his dreams, after all. She’ll give put it back while she searches for the real thing. 

(That is, in fact, the real thing. It’s just that Armin wrote in several different codes that all happened to look like a child’s daydreams. He’d miscalculated a little, letting her take it, since he’d assumed no one would even be interested in it. Well, he’s still young and has a lot to learn.)

(It’s the other book she was supposed to steal.)

When she brings the other book to the would-be blackmailer, it seems to be the real deal. There are lists and lists of people, dates, their occasionally bizarre sexual preferences and even some things their apparently let slip in the midst of passion. 

Thrilled by this discovery, the man doesn’t notice that the book is a little too new for the earliest dates in it and all the pages are uniformly worn. 

High on his sense of triumph, he also doesn’t think to be subtle and go in slow. He goes in right for the kill, so to speak. 

Namely, he saunters into the local Military Police leader’s office and accuses him of doing certain, highly improper things to farm animals. The police chief, an inner city man who’s never even seen a cow, is not impressed. 

He’s so unimpressed, he makes sure the would-be blackmailer never bothers anyone again. 

\-----------

Armin likes to think of it as tying up loose ends. Two birds with one stone. His next decoy book is even more convincing. 

\------------


	6. In which Eren solves everything through violence

Inspired by this prompt:  
http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=3905056#cmt3905056  
 _Eren's solution to all his problems has always been one thing. Unrestrained violence. In his mind, there is no problem that cannot be solved by the application of enough rage._

 _And strangely enough, it's always worked for him._  
\------------

 

Everyone remembers Armin’s little black book and Mikasa’s red scarf. Those items become inexorably linked with an animalistic fear in their minds. 

Armin becomes known as a master blackmailer and manipulator. Mikasa is more deadly than any assassin or hitman. Their base of operations gains an almost mythical reputation. 

Somehow, everyone forgets about the third member of their little group. This is a mistake. 

Eren is, after all, the most vicious, the most volatile, the most prone to violence among the three. Where Armin will show restraint against an opponent, Eren will always charge in to destroy them utterly. Where Mikasa will ignore anything she deems beneath her, Eren will always react to the slightest perceived injustice. 

And his reaction is always very, very brutal. 

To Eren, there are no problems that can’t be solved by the application of enough rage and determination. 

It’s worked well enough for him. 

(Actually, it’s not entirely accurate to say that Eren doesn’t have a reputation. There are quite a few rumors of a “monster” that stalks the shadowed corners of the city, appearing seemingly without warning or cause, rending apart those that incur its wrath and disappearing again. It cannot be killed. No matter how much of its blood is spilt, it never stops. Its goals and reasons are unknown. So is its shape.)

(However, the few survivors have been known to repeat in mindless terror, “Its eyes! Those eyes-!”)

\----------------

“He saw me first!” one of the girls insists. 

“He likes me better! He’s been to see me more times!” the other shoots back. 

They’ve been at it for a while, and even Armin is honestly out of patience. Apparently, one of the customers has been to see them both, and things have now dissolved into a good, old-fashioned territory dispute, looking ready to dissolve even further into a plain old cat-fight. 

Eren, who had departed somewhere a while back, returns. As Armin turns to greet him and the girls turn to ask him for his opinion, all three freeze in surprise. 

Eren is carrying Helga’s wood-chopping axe. Well, more like dragging it along with great effort. It’s almost taller than he is and potentially heavier. 

Sweet Sina, he’s going to kill them, Armin thinks. He can’t entirely disagree with that decision. 

“W-what’s that for, Eren?” one of the girls ventures. 

“It’s for you guys,” Eren says simply, looking at them with wide, innocent eyes, as if the answer should be obvious. 

Armin starts thinking about how to better get blood out of the carpet. Really, an axe is so messy... 

The girls pale. 

“For this guy you both like,” Eren continues. 

Armin’s eyebrows rise in surprise. That’s awfully practical of Eren. But hiding the body will be a chore...

“If you can’t share, then you can just each have half,” Eren concludes, heaving the axe over his shoulder with an effort. 

“No!” one of the girls bursts out. “Please, don’t! It’s okay if he goes with her! Just don’t hurt him!”

The other stares at her in surprise, then shakes her head. “I... I was just playing,” she mumbles. “I didn’t think you liked him that much..."

“That was quite cunning of you, Eren,” Armin comments later, after they finish sorting out the dispute. It had gone easily, now that they had both come to their senses. 

“What was?” Eren wonders.

“You know, putting on a show to make them understand how unreasonable they were being,” Armin says. 

Eren doesn’t understand. He had been entirely serious. 

\-------------

Of course, sometimes, Eren’s ways just plain don’t make sense. Actually, most of the time. Is he really a human? (Answer: not exactly.)

\-------------

The house has a reputation for providing good service. 

So good, it takes your breath away. So good it makes your heart stop. So good, it’ll send you straight to the pearly gates. 

Literally, for at least one customer, it would seem. 

Everyone comes running at the sound of a shrill scream. They are used to all kinds of things -- mostly customers who went too far, though there was one memorable occasion with a hermaphrodite -- but what they find when they burst into the room is something none of them expect. 

The customer, an old man who had been recently widowed and had come celebrate, is collapsed on the bed. The girl is leaning over him, her expression panicked. 

“What happened?” Armin demands. 

“I don’t know!” she exclaims, near tears. “He-he said his chest hurt, and he was having trouble breathing. And then he suddenly just collapsed!”

Eren is already climbing onto the bed, checking the man’s pulse and putting an ear to his mouth to check his breathing. Judging by his frown, there is none. 

“I’ll get a doctor,” Armin decides. They’ll need a credible witness to prove it wasn’t their or the house’s fault. 

But Eren doesn’t respond. Instead, he raises one fist and brings it down, hard, on the man’s chest. Then, he does it again. The man’s body jerks, and in the next moment he takes a gasping breath. Armin and the girl stare. 

Eren nods to himself. “He had a heart attack and went into cardiac arrest,” he says. “Dad told me about this.” 

The old man groans and rolls over gingerly. He blinks groggily up at the girl, who drops the sheet she was holding and embraces him joyously. Pressed against her (naked) cleavage, the old man sighs dopily. 

“Did I die and go to heaven?” he wonders. Close, but not yet.

“...I didn’t know you could treat that with a punch to the chest,” Armin comments. He’s pretty sure his grandfather just took medicine for his heart problems. “Did your father teach you that too?” 

“No,” Eren says blankly. “It just works, you know?” 

Armin does not know. Nor does he particularly want to. 

\----------

Yup, Eren’s weird alright. It’s almost unfair. Shouldn’t his sheer recklessness have gotten him killed by now? 

\----------

Armin never does find out what mystic method Levi employs to convince Eren to hold off on enlisting -- and it's hold off, not give up, as Eren makes clear. 

So Armin sighs and starts planning. It's easier that way, with Eren. He decides to add an extra carrot. It doesn’t take much for certain contacts to turn up a few sets of 3D Maneuver Gear. Theoretically, only the military is supposed to have access to those, but it’s not that hard to come by them on the black market -- the Military Police sure don’t use them much, so why not sell the extra? It’s win-win for everyone, right? 

It’s a win for Eren, in any case. And for Armin, in a way. Not only is Eren calmer, now that he doesn’t feel like he’s wasting time, but he also gets a head start on training, which can only help him once he actually enlists. 

So one fine morning, they head out to one of the more desolate parts of Trost, 3D Maneuver Gear in tow. 

Just getting it on is an adventure, even with the instructions and tips Armin has dutifully collected from their military customers. 

“Okay,” he says finally, once they’ve got every strap and buckle in place. “The first thing to do is have a balance test. We just need to set up our anchors and--”

“Forget it!” Eren says impatiently. “Let’s do this already!” 

He doesn’t give Armin or even Mikasa enough time to stop him. He pulls the trigger, and one of the grapple hooks shoots out, plunging deep into a second story wall. Another click, and Eren is suddenly yanked away from them. 

He’s going too fast, and his body is in the completely wrong position. There is a sharp crack as he clips the roof edge, and Armin just prays that’s the tiles and not Eren. 

Eren is sent spinning, rolling across the roof to crash into the second story wall. With a shout, Mikasa is already following. Naturally, she manages to use her Maneuver Gear just fine, while Armin runs inside and climbs the stairs. 

He emerges onto the roof through the second story window. By that point, Mikasa is already helping Eren sit up. He’s groggy, and there’s blood in his hair, on his face and soaking his pant leg, but at least he’s conscious. 

If anything, Eren doesn’t seem hurt so much as annoyed. Even as Mikasa fusses over him, Eren hisses a curse and starts to check over his Maneuver Gear. It’s supposed to come off during a crash, Armin has been told, but Eren’s is still attached to his body, for the most part, and obviously dented from the experience. 

Eren winces a little as he flexes his leg -- the one with deep bloodstains on it -- but that doesn’t stop him from carefully putting weight on it. Armin thinks he sees the air shimmer a little as Eren breathes out deeply. 

Satisfied that his injuries aren’t too serious, Mikasa draws back and nails him across the back of the head. 

“Idiot,” she scolds. 

Eren huffs, but mostly looks sheepish. “Okay, okay,” he says, “we’ll start a little slower.” 

“Maybe we should stop here for today,” Armin suggests dubiously. “We should get you checked out and look over your gear. It’s probably damaged. See?” 

As he speaks, Eren tries to reel in the grapple he had used, but as he clicks the control device, there is no response. 

Eren rolls his eyes and, instead of acknowledging Armin’s point, like a normal person, bangs the controller against the roof. Then, he picks up a loose tile and hits the rest of the gear a few times. 

Armin maybe makes a defeated, strangled sound at this point. 

For his part, Eren looks supremely self-satisfied as he clicks the controller again and, unbelievably, the grappling wire reels in like a charm. In fact, it might even be going faster and smoother than before. 

How, Armin wonders, why? 

No, he decides, he doesn’t want to know. 

“So, about those balance exercises,” he says instead. 

\---------------

It’s almost satisfying to know that Eren’s not really human. It explains so much. The world almost makes sense again. Except that, of course, being able to turn into a Titan doesn’t explain Eren at all. 

Armin suspects other Titan shifters are not quite this weird. He hopes they’re not. 

\---------------

Under the influence of Armin’s “persuasion,” Eren -- together with Armin himself and Mikasa -- is assigned to the Survey Corps as “civilian specialists, aiding on matters requiring their particular abilities and expertise.”

Armin’s just glad Eren wasn’t there during negotiations, or he would have probably enlisted on the spot or something. Given the situation, Armin feels a little distance from the military wouldn’t hurt. 

Honestly, Eren stopped the Armored Titan from taking down the inner gate and even resealed the outer gate too -- with a little direction from Armin. What else do they want? 

Well, Armin supposes that they might want Eren to stop upsetting their nice little order with his very existence. 

On the one hand, very few know that Eren and the Rogue Titan that helped humanity are one and the same. On the other hand, Pixis had been forced to declare that the Rogue Titan is a weapon of the military to get at least some control over his soldiers. 

All that really means is that rumors are flying wild and the city is full of unrest. 

Armin had made full use of that uneasy situation to advocate placing Eren with the Survey Corps and announcing a plan to use the “military’s weapon,” the Rogue Titan, to retake Wall Maria. In the end, Zackly had agreed with his reasoning. Or maybe caved to his threats. One of the two. 

Following Zackly’s decision and the suggested announcement, the rumors only intensify, mostly concerning where the Rogue Titan is being held. Naturally, everyone understands what an amazing, game-changing weapon it (he) is. Anyone with the slightest delusions of grandeur tries to discover its location and take it for themselves. 

They are on a time limit. In just under a month, the Survey Corps -- together with Eren, Mikasa and Armin -- will proceed to Karanese and beyond the gate, toward Zhiganshina, ostensibly to seal that hole too.

Of course, that means Armin and company are on a time limit too. They’ll be leaving, quite possibly to never return, and there are a lot of loose ends to tie up. 

That’s why, after some furious debate, it’s decided that Armin and Mikasa will go to Trost to settle matters with the house and its other residents, while Eren stays behind at the Survey Corps’s temporary headquarters, under the watchful eyes of Levi and his squad. And Hange. She’s watching especially closely. 

“We’ll be back soon,” Armin promises. “We were already finding everyone new homes because we planned to enlist, so I’ll just have to speed things along. Don’t make too much of a mess, okay?” He pulls Mikasa away, while she glares balefully at Levi, who glares right back.

Except that then, Levi leaves as well, summoned to the city by an urgent message. 

“This place better be sparkling when I get back,” Levi says in a tone that allows no argument. Eren feels something very strange in his chest. (It’s the feeling of being given responsibility by an authority figure. Because Levi is the closest Eren’s got to an authority figure. That’s a little terrifying when you think about it.)

Left alone with the Special Ops Squad, who clearly distrust him, Eren quickly warms up to Hange. So what if she kind of seems to want to dissect him? It probably wouldn’t kill him anyway. Wasn’t that how they first figured out that there was something weird about him? Eren did something stupid, got cut open in a pretty lethal way and then recovered, somehow. 

And then the weird dreams about his father started, which didn’t make sense until the Armored Titan was bearing down on them. Eren thought, “I have to stop it. I will protect them,” and bit down on his hand.

The rest, as they say, is history. 

When he tells Hange that, she looks ecstatic. 

By that point, the candle on the table has almost entirely burnt down, and the Special Ops Squad has retired for the night. 

They are alone, in the guttering light of a single flame. Shadows dance along the walls. In the corridor, there is a soft sound. 

Hange keeps talking, but her eyes meet Eren’s meaningfully. 

They each palm a knife, still on the table, and pretend to be heading to bed as well. Needless to say, the would-be ambushers in the corridor are in for a nasty surprise. 

Two bodies drop to the floor, and Hange turns to look at the rest of the intruders. She clicks her tongue and says, “How rude. Breaking in, interrupting our conversation... You fellows need to be punished. And I’ll be happy to do it for you.” 

Her face breaks out into a smile, which is mirrored by Eren. As they make short work of the other trespassers, he feels a warm glow of solidarity. 

All too soon, they’re down to the last intruder. He takes one look at them and runs. Unfortunately, that spark of intelligence comes far too late. 

Eren runs after him. 

It doesn’t take him long to catch up and cut the man down. That’s how Petra and Oluo -- roused by the commotion -- find him. Standing over a dead body. Covered in blood (quite a bit of it his, actually). 

They yell and draw their swords. 

It could have gotten ugly quickly, but fortunately, Hange arrives on Eren’s heels. 

“Hey, I got one of them to confess with his dying breath,” she says cheerfully. For some reason, the sight of her covered in blood is far less notable to the Special Ops members. Eren feels discriminated against, but it’s probably just desensitization. “Turns out they were trying to find the Rogue Titan and steal our special secret weapon for themselves!” 

“Like a bunch of small fry like this could handle that,” Eren grumbles, tugging unhappily at his stained clothes. Going by the captain’s cleaning standards, he’ll probably be doing laundry for a week before it would be judged good enough. Not to mention he still sucks at sewing. 

“Yeah, I wonder who helped them,” Hange agrees. She shrugs and turns her attention to the dead body at his feet. “What should we do with these?” she wonders, toeing it. 

Looking down at the corpse, Eren suddenly pales. “We have to get rid of them. Right now!” he says. 

“What? But we need to report this!” Petra protests, finally recovering her wits, or maybe just giving up on making sense of the situation. 

Eren turns to her with a heavy, dread-filled gaze. “What if they start to smell?” he says. “What will we tell Levi? Getting all the blood out will be bad enough.” 

Petra and Oluo pale as well. Actually, Oluo is just kind of green. 

“We can bury them in the woods,” Eren decides. “Come on, get Eldo and Gunther to help. We’ll need to hurry cleaning up the blood, before it dries completely.” 

“But..."

“He said everything needs to be sparkling,” Eren reminds them. “Sparkling. And now there’s blood all over the corridor. They probably tracked in mud too.” 

Petra and Oluo gulp, exchange a look and hurry away. 

Before the cleaning wrath of Levi, they are unified. 

“I’m gonna check the bodies to see if they have anything useful on them,” Hange says, patting him on the shoulder. It’s good that she thinks of these things, like Armin would. 

Actually, the entire thing is kind of nostalgic. 

However, Eldo and Gunther have a long way to go before they reach Mikasa’s skill at digging shallow graves. 

“No, like this,” Eren says, demonstrating. “Put your back into it.” 

They carefully do not ask why he’s so good at this. 

Petra and Oluo are also not nearly as good as the girls at the house at getting blood stains out. 

“Try putting some baking soda in the oven,” Eren suggest. “It’ll change a bit, and then add it to warm water. That’s what we used, I think.”

Hange hums in agreement where she’s pouring over the contents of the intruders’ pockets. No one asks why Eren and friends had needed to get blood stains out often enough to develop a method. 

Levi returns by morning. Since they worked through the night, no one is up to greet him, and Levi storms through the castle more quickly than looming anger would require. When he finally finds them, where they have collapsed in a snoring pile after finishing hanging their laundry to dry, Levi’s expression goes blank, then annoyed. 

Something about his aura rouses them. The Special Operations Squad jumps straight into a salute, while Eren stands more slowly. 

“Those clothes,” Levi says, “are still dirty. Now, why don’t you tell me where the blood stains came from.” 

There is a tense moment of silence. 

“It’s Eren’s fault!” Oluo bursts out. 

Traitor. 

Well, that problem can be solved too -- by stomping viciously on his foot.

 

\-----------------


	7. In which they crash a party

\-----------------  
Inspired by this prompt:   
http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=4054816#cmt4054816  
Basically, someone gets the idea to crash a fancy party and hopefully score as much fancy food as they can before they get tossed.

Eren sets out to try and pass himself off as someone noble and refined. (With all the rage and determination he can muster.) The thing is, he pulls it off. Eren (and by extension Armin and Mikasa) pull off the act so well, everyone assumes they are supposed to be there. (Him? Oh he's Lord So-and-so's son, I think.)

Obviously, some parts are altered to suit the setup. 

\-----------------

 

“I’m so excited!” 

“I can’t believe we’re going! I heard it’s amazing.”

“Just imagine all the food! And the music! It’s going to be like a fairy tale!”

It’s that time of year again -- the midwinter ball. It’s the high-class event of the year in Trost, and due to the house’s rising reputation, several of the girls have been invited as escorts for their customers in the military brass. 

Only one of the girls had gone the year before, much to the jealousy of the others -- she had since married out, to the same man who took her, incidentally; the wedding had been quite nice. She had told Armin all about it afterwards, but being already utterly smitten, she hadn’t been able to provide all that much detail. 

Well, detail besides “he looked so dashing, like a prince!” and “we danced together all night!”

There is so much gossip Armin could pick up there. Just thinking about it makes his fingers twitch toward his little black book. All those nobles, merchants and soldiers, boozing and taking stabs at each other. Just one hour, and he could fill up ten pages, he’s sure. 

Unfortunately, the girls might get invited as escorts, but the owners of a brothel are definitely not on the guest list. 

“Hrmph, pigs,” Eren scowls, with his usual disdain for the upper classes. 

On the couch next to him, Levi moodily chews on the last of the stew he was given and nods. “Drunken pigs,” he agrees. 

To Eren’s insistent questions, Levi had finally caved and explained that while Titans were less active in the winter -- shorter days, often cloudy, made them lethargic, for lack of a better word -- the unpredictable weather also made expeditions too risky. 

So the entire Survey Corps was spending the winter inside the Walls. Levi’s squad had gone off to visit their families, like many of the other soldiers, and Erwin had gone off to report at the capital and to shmooze. Their mostly abandoned barracks were so cold your piss would freeze before hitting the urinal, supposedly, and the mess hall had basically closed down, so Levi had decided to mooch off the house instead, where Armin made sure to keep everyone warm and fed, still remembering the terrible winters when they were in real danger of freezing and starving. 

Thinking about those days, Armin suddenly understands Eren’s anger. 

“Tell them not to drink anything anyone gives them,” Levi warns the boys. “You never know what some asshole might slip you.” 

Armin nods slowly. Most of the girls know better, but it wouldn’t hurt to warn them just in case. “I’ll remind them to look after each other too,” he mutters to himself. 

Eren’s scowl deepens. “If it might be dangerous, we shouldn’t let them go alone,” he says. He and Mikasa take their protection duties seriously. 

“I’m afraid none of us were invited,” Armin says. 

“Yeah, well, consider yourselves lucky,” Levi snorts. “Erwin drags me along to these things all the time, and it’s the dullest shit you can imagine.” 

An idea seems to occur to him, and Eren turns to Levi.

“No,” Levi says flatly before Eren can do more than open his mouth. “Absolutely not.” 

Eren sulks and abandons Levi for the rest of the night, not that the captain seems to mind the relative peace and quiet. He’s long since gotten used to dozing on their couch and even has a preferred corner. The girls seem to view him as a kind of fixture of the house, and the customers are even a little less rowdy at the sight of Humanity's Strongest. 

In any case, it’s not as if Eren’s going to let anyone kick Levi out, even if all they do is argue. 

Well, they can handle one more freeloader. Maybe Armin can make him help haul supplies...

\-----------------

Still, Armin can’t stop thinking that there’s something to that idea. Going to the ball, that is. It would be useful, wouldn’t it? They could watch over the girls, stuff themselves on high-class food and gather some good intel. It’s worth a try. 

And that’s how Armin explains his reasons to Mikasa and Eren. Also, he adds, they’ll be able to make fools out of those elitist pigs, which is a nice side benefit. 

Eren is, of course, all in. Mikasa shrugs. 

All of them are passably good at sneaking, so getting in isn’t a problem, though the fancy outfits Armin arranged for them make things a little more difficult. Once they’re in the mansion’s park-like garden, they have to pause to fix each other’s clothes and hair. 

Naturally, this is the point when they get caught. 

“You there!” one of the servants calls out. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m calling the guards!” 

“Try it and I’ll break your arm!” Eren snarls right back. He’s quite serious. 

He steps forward into the light streaming through the mansion’s windows, and the servant pales even further seeing Eren’s fancy coat, vest, and shirt ensemble. Mikasa follows him, moving a little awkwardly in the full dress she’s wearing -- Armin had to force Eren to get her a new shawl just so that she’d agree to leave the scarf behind. 

There are still leaves in Eren’s carefully combed back hair and in the folds of Mikasa’s skirt. The servant looks between them, and the assumption he makes is completely obvious. Two teenagers, out by themselves, wanting secrecy. Yeah, it’s obvious. 

“My deepest apologies, my lord, my lady,” he says, bowing deeply. However, judging from the way he glances at Mikasa, he doesn’t think her much of a lady at all.

“Get lost,” Eren snaps, and the servant scrambles away, keeping his head low. 

Watching him go, Armin makes his own way out of the bushes. He brushes off his dress and pats his head to makes sure his hairpins are still in place. He just hopes he hasn’t smudged his makeup. 

Glancing at him, Eren makes a face. “You look like a girl,” he says, which is kind of the point. “Are you really going to be okay?” 

“They’ll be more open with a demure young girl,” Armin says. “Having you hover around would defeat the whole purpose.” 

Eren appears unconvinced, and he and Mikasa exchange a meaningful look. 

Armin sighs. “Just duck your head and look mostly toward the floor,” he tells Mikasa. “And don’t stab anyone until I give the signal, especially if they’re just drunk and handsy.” 

Turning to Eren, Armin smooths his hair back one more time and fixes his fancy necktie. To be honest, his friend didn’t look like himself, even more than Armin managed by wearing a dress. 

Well, it was probably for the best -- Eren’s presence would raise the most questions if someone recognized him. Unlike Armin and Mikasa, he couldn’t really pretend to finally have joined the house like that. Who would take him, right? (Who would dare? Who could possibly survive the experience?)

The doors and windows looking out across the garden are open, despite the cold winter weather. The sheer amount of waste on heating alone is staggering. Eren is already working himself into a fine mood as he shoulders his way through the crowd, while Armin and Mikasa slip away. He tries to look around for a familiar face, but the shifting kaleidoscope of bright colors and patterns makes his eyes cross a little. 

As Eren takes a moment to orient himself, putting his back against one wall, a maid offers him a tray drinks. Despite being only his age, she carries it easily with one hand, and the sparkling amber liquid in the glasses barely even trembles as she curtsies. 

Eren accepts one, muttering his thanks. That is apparently the wrong move, as her pale blue eyes dart to him in surprise. Of course, nobles are all stuck-up, thankless, arrogant assholes. They would never thank a servant. 

Trying to cover up his mistake, Eren scowls and waves her away as dismissively as he can. He automatically brings the glass up, only to hesitate as he remembers Levi’s advice. 

But that only applies to stuff from sleazy nobles, right? His eyes dart to the maid, making her way gracefully between the other guests. Typically, none of the partygoers watch where they’re going or even consider if they’re inconveniencing someone else, but the maid dodges them with admirable skill. 

Even when a group of young noblemen suddenly steps in her path and the closest throws an arm out wildly, she manages to avoid them. However, the drinks on her tray slosh and spill over a little. Without even turning, the nobleman who had almost knocked her over reaches out to take a glass and grimaces as his hand encounters slight stickiness on the surface. 

“You spilled it? Be more careful, you useless wench,” he snaps at her. 

And now Eren’s too pissed to think clearly. It only takes a few steps for him to reach the noblemen and the maid, who accepts the unfair criticism with a submissive curtsy. 

The young man who had yelled sputters as Eren’s untouched glass ends up on his face and shirt. 

“Oops, I spilled it,” Eren sneers, with absolutely no apology. “I’ll have to be more careful.” 

The nobleman glares at him, ready to take offence, but Eren’s just getting started. He’s a noble right now, isn’t he? And nobles can do whatever they want, right? That’s how they think. No matter what happens, it’s someone else’s fault. 

“Or rather, you should be more careful, you useless oaf,” Eren continues, his tone venomous enough to make the young man in front of him flinch. “Next time, don’t stand in my way!” 

By this point, the maid has wisely slipped away, and Eren doesn’t wait for a response. He kind of wants to deck the nobleman, but in a rare show of self-restraint, he simply turns around and walks off without another word. 

Whispers break out behind him. 

“Did you see? Doing that to the marquis’s nephew!”

“He must from Sina!”

“Could he be the count’s relative? Or maybe even... the duke’s?!” 

After all, someone that rude and confrontational has to be important, right?

\--------------

Eren proceeds to terrorize the entire guest list -- spilling six more drinks, stepping on three hems (though at least one was from honest clumsiness), pulling off four wigs, and sticking an entire flower vase on the head of particularly annoying nobleman. 

By that point, rumors escalate to speculating that he’s a distant member of the royal family. 

Eren has just spotted his next target -- a noblewoman in far too much makeup, laughing gratingly over the less expensive dress of one of the house’s girls -- when a small hand on his arm forcefully yanks him back. A short slim figure presses against his back, and a very familiar, displeased voice hisses in his ear. 

“What are you doing, Eren?” Armin demands in a whisper, his still demure expression completely at odds with his fearsome tone. 

“I’m giving those pigs a taste of what they deserve!” Eren hisses back. “Isn’t that why we came here?” 

Armin’s fingers pinch his arm very painfully. “Cut it out,” Armin orders. “Go stand in the corner.” Eren tries to protest, but Armin won’t have any of it. “Corner. Now. And stay there!”

Incidentally -- or rather, entirely on purpose -- the corner Armin directs Eren to is the same corner Levi has been sulking in. Armin’s counting on Levi’s murderous aura to keep most of the nobles away and on Levi’s relatively good sense to keep Eren from doing anything utterly scandalous. 

Well, that second one is a pretty forlorn hope, but still. 

Whereas Armin has banished to Eren to the corner, Erwin has spent an entire evening trying to get Levi out of it. He has been utterly unsuccessful, and the only time any other guest is brave enough to attempt conversation with Levi, Humanity’s Strongest goes on to describe in gruesome detail how exceedingly similar a Titan’s anatomy is to a human’s and what Levi has done to that anatomy. With his swords. With great pleasure. 

His would-be conversation partner departs quickly, a very greenish hue to her face. Erwin sighs. 

Just as Levi allows himself to feel a little triumphant and to expect a night of peace and solitude, another noble joins him. He’s young, just a kid, with a fancy coat and the same stupid slicked back hair. 

As he catches sight of Levi, his scowling, petulant look melts away into a bright smile, and he waves. 

Levi stares at him with a complete lack of recognition. 

“Hi, Levi!” the boy says with entirely too much familiarity. “Wow, you look really different out of uniform. But I guess everyone doesn’t look like themselves in these stupid clothes and hairstyles and make up.” 

Fortunately, Levi doesn’t demand who he is. He would never live it down otherwise. Instead, he glares for several more moments before that stupid puppy-like expression, those eyebrows, and finally those eyes start to look familiar. 

“What are you doing here?!” Levi scowls, his glare sharpening even further. 

Eren, long since used to it, just grins. “We snuck in,” he says with some pride. “Isn’t it great? I’ve been making fools of those pigs all evening. It’s really--”

At this point, Levi stomps on his foot, glaring pointedly over Eren’s shoulder. As Eren turns to look, the happy, pleased look slides off his face. An expression of disdain and mild threat takes its place. 

The nobleman who had begun to approach them falters a little, but drawing support from the two toadies following him, he renews his approach. 

“It’s a rare pleasure to see Humanity’s Strongest in the flesh,” the nobleman says, giving Levi a very smarmy smile. Turning to Eren, he adds in a falsely friendly tone, “I’m sure it’s especially impressive to the young romantics among us.” 

“What are you talking about? I see Levi all the time,” Eren says flatly, and Levi can just see the way his words are misinterpreted. Who could possibly often come into contact with high-ranking members of the Survey Corps? Does he have close ties to the military? 

The nobleman laughs, slightly too high and entirely artificial. “I see! This is my first time seeing you as well, and I must confess I don’t recognize you,” he says, trying to demure, but failing to hide his pointed look. 

“So? I don’t know you either,” Eren says flatly. “Who are you supposed to be anyway?” 

Levi doesn’t recognize him either, but Erwin has managed to impress on him how very inadvisable it is to admit that. There is nothing more insulting to a blowhard than having his own lack of importance shoved in his face. 

So, Levi watches with perhaps too much amusement as the nobleman starts to turn an unflattering red. 

“Yes,” he says, his smile now more like a grimace, “I can see that you are new to this. Let me give you some advice--” 

“I don’t want it,” Eren cuts in. “I’ve got no interest in anything you have to say, so just get lost.” 

He turns away, because as far as he’s concerned, that’s the end of it, but it looks more like a deliberate insult. Losing out to his rage, the nobleman reaches for Eren, and Levi finds himself reflexively tensing. 

It’s pointless, of course. Eren doesn’t back away or try to avoid his hand so much as he steps in, suddenly too close, and makes his own grab for the man. Remembering Armin’s long, stern lecture about not hurting anyone at the party, Eren only takes hold of the noble’s expensive jacket and pulls sharply. 

The fabric, luxurious but not made to last, rips with a loud sound that draws the attention of all those around them.

The nobleman pales sharply as he is left standing in the ripped remains of his outfit. 

“Oops,” Eren says, not in the least bit sorry. “Not very well made, is it? My bad.” 

Failing to gather the tatters of his pride and clothing as the other partygoers start to snicker, the nobleman flees. 

Levi raises the untouched glass in his hand to hide his mouth. He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making, but he suspects it is not one Erwin would approve of. Suddenly, this party got a lot more interesting. 

\-------------

After getting hit on the for the fifteenth time, Armin decides he’s had enough and changes his strategy. Instead of trying to chat up the nobles or surreptitiously listen in on some incriminating conversations, he uses his long experience to find and stake out the places most likely to be used for a bit of quick “fun.” 

The payoff is immediate and not half bad -- Armin now knows about several nobles who had cheating on their wives, surprisingly often with the daughters of people they really have no business crossing. He’s also proud to realize that his girls know better than to use such obvious make-out spots. 

The innocent “blush and duck your head” routine also works like a charm the few times he’s noticed by the unfortunate couples. 

It’s on his rounds that Armin encounter something strange. An older man and a maid stumble to the nearest deserted corridor, his hands groping in places they really have no business being. Armin follows, wanting to make sure the man is who he thinks he is -- it would be quite the scandal. 

There is a strange, muffled sound. 

When Armin peers around the corner, the maid is lowering the old nobleman's limp body to the floor and begins to search through his pockets. 

Armin watched with interest. He doesn’t recognize the maid, though she’s probably not really a maid at all -- short, blonde, with surprisingly strong features. She fishes out the man’s appointment book and leafs through it quickly. 

When she clicks her tongue in disappointment, Armin can’t help sighing a little. The maid looks up sharply, her eyes meeting his, and Armin can tell she’s reaching for some weapon. 

“Nothing good?” he says, calmly and conversationally. They’re both here for the same thing, after all. “You want his seal? Otherwise, I’ll take it,” he adds. 

“It’s mine,” she says, her pale blue eyes narrowing. 

Armin shrugs and leaves her to it. 

\------------

When she finds herself alone, Mikasa stops to think for a moment. 

She could go find Eren or Armin, but truthfully, she expects that they can handle themselves in a place like this. She could go have more of the fancy food, but it honestly isn’t to her taste. She could go skulk in a corner and wait for the night to be over. 

But that would leave her too open to unsavory sorts of attention, the way being alone and out of the way often does. It would be a shame if she had to extricate herself out by breaking a few fingers. It could get her kicked out. Or raise questions about how she got in. 

So Mikasa shrugs and does the opposite -- she heads for the center of the ballroom, where there are more people and no one would be willing to try anything too obvious. 

It doesn’t take too long for a brave young soldier to approach her. He’s from the Military Police -- automatic negative -- but he’s blushing and can’t even look her in the eyes, and not because he’s staring at her chest. 

He asks her to dance. Mikasa shrugs and goes with it. She’s seen enough to remember the steps. They glide around the dance floor a couple times, then a nobleman tries his luck. Mikasa shrugs and dances with him too. 

There’s another after that, and another. Mikasa doesn’t stop dancing and doesn’t let any of them pull her away. Only one nobleman is dumb enough to try sliding his hand lower and Mikasa retaliates by grinding her heel into his foot, all without breaking step. 

It’s kind of fun, the step-step-turn of the dances. As the night winds down, Mikasa is surprised to find herself smiling faintly. 

They’ll have to do this again sometime. 

 

\-----------  
For some reason, Levi is starting to sound more and more like EMA’s put upon babysitter, who also freeloads off the kids. He is so done with these brats. So done. After he eats this stew. And takes a nap. At least they're good entertainment, right?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The House in the Red Light District [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017158) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




End file.
